Number Ten
by singingstarryknights
Summary: Anniversary Number Ten is a really big deal. Fortunately, Greg has a plan.Number 24 in the Ducks in a Row Series.


Number Ten

Anniversary Number Ten is a really big deal. Fortunately, Greg has a plan.

Number 24 in the Ducks in a Row Series.

………

Sara Sanders was exceptionally thrilled about leaving work that morning. Not that she wasn't thrilled every time she had been responsible for the latest edition to the Nevada Correctional Facility's High Security Ward, but this morning, as she made her way up the walkway, she smiled and waved at Mrs. Finch across the street, gathering her mail, and entered the front door in an exceptionally good mood.

Greg had beat her home by about an hour and a half, ducking out when his case wrapped, and Sara was still in the last interrogation. He had left a note on her locker, telling her he would meet her at home. They had both taken the next night off as a vacation day, as they did every year. She grinned, thinking about how in the ten years she had been married to Greg, she had used most of her vacation days each year.

Ten years.

Ten years she had been married to him. Ten years ago today she was slipping into a white sundress and tossing an extra pair of sock in Greg's bag, in case he got cold feet. She loved their dear little anniversary vacations. The 48-hour kind, where they never left the city, but did something together, usually with Nora. Earlier in the week, Greg had silently tore an ad for the Guggenheim's exhibit of Peter Paul Ruben's oil-on-canvas baroques, and slid it across the table to her. Nora, who just that morning was explaining matter-of-factly the differences between the Flemish realism and the Italian Grande Manner styles of painting, would find this exhibit to be her brand of heaven, and the decision was made that they were spending their tenth anniversary at an art museum. She supposed Greg was looking forward to trying to make Nora laugh about the nudity in the paintings.

Greg's car was in the driveway, and as Sara stepped into the front room, she called out a hello.

"Hey, how was that interrogation? When I left, Nick said you had the guy in tears." Greg appeared at the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb.

"Fine. Yeah, he was a push over once we got under his skin." She shrugged off her light jacket, hanging it up, and tossed her keys in the bowl by the door. She kicked off her shoes, and closed the distance between herself and Greg, catching him in a slow little kiss. "This is Number Ten."

"Yeah. Can you imagine?" He smiled childishly at her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I think we've been married long enough to give out marriage advice. We could set up shop outside one of the chapels on the strip-" She interrupted him, pulling his lips down to hers, kissing him again. He, in response, backed her halfway across the living room, and tumbled her over the arm of the couch, landing on top of her.

"Gregory!" Sara laughed against his lips as he slipped his hand under her shirt, kissing her softly, sprawled out on the couch. "There is a nine year old in the house, Greg."

"No there isn't." His voice had dropped to that rumbling husky tone that always made her legs fall open and her breath hitch in her throat.

"What do you mean there isn't?" Sara tried to sit up, but Greg pinned her down, his eyes sparkling mischievously and he smiled at her sweetly before catching her lips again.

"I pawned her off." He spoke against her lips, shifting to prop himself up on top of her.

"What do you mean you _pawned her off_? On who?"

"Were you not around when Catherine said that Lindsey came home from school last week for the summer?" He smirked at her confused expression, softening to a smile when she wrapped a leg casually around his waist.

"You pawned Nora off on Lindsey Willows?"

"Sort of. Well, yeah, I guess I did. Nora was psyched though, Catherine was talking about how Lindsey wanted to get to the Guggenheim this summer, and so then I said, if she wanted to go with a art nerd, she should go with Nora, and then I got to thinking, and I called Lindsey, and she was almost as excited as Nora." Greg dropped his head to Sara's neck, pressing gentle kisses to her collarbone, making her arch into him.

"So Lindsey is taking Nora to the Baroque exhibit?"

"And then they are going back to Catherine's house and making dinner, and having a movie marathon. Lindsey said something about education Nora on the fine art of 80s movies with the brat pack." Greg pressed his hip into her gently, eliciting a soft moan.

"So what are we doing, then, Mr. Sanders?" She had a pretty good idea what her beloved husband had in mind, but she knew how much he liked to make a presentation of things. Greg grinned at her broadly, and climbed off her roughly, coming to stand on his feet, and extended his hand out to her.

"If you'd follow me to the back of the house." Sara stood, taking Greg's offered hand, and he led her to the doorway they started at, inches away from the linoleum of the kitchen floor. "Wait right here." She chuckled at his last minute rushing around, as he grabbed the remote from their stereo in the bedroom off the counter, squinted his eyes shut for a moment, trying to remember something, and hit a button. Instantly, the sultry voice of Nina Simone invaded her ears, and she smiled softly at her husband.

_I who never had much I now have a treasure_

_A love too great to measure_

_I am blessed with happiness_

_And I'm done with loneliness_

"Take a look." He held out a hand, gesturing for her to enter the kitchen, and look down the hallway that lead to the dining room, Nora's room, and their bedroom. She stopped dead in her tracks. The hallway was lit but sporadically placed thick column candles, giving the stretch of floor a soft, alluring light. Greg had taken probably dozens of daisies, plucking out their petals, strewing them about on the hardwood floor. At the doorway o their bedroom, she could make out a white envelope, propped up on a candle, the light from its flame casting it in a soft yellow glow.

"Oh Greg." She turned to him, with tears in her eyes, and he laughed softly.

"I kind of had to pawned off the nine year old." Sara kissed him, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly.

_I who walked all alone not really knowing_

_Till now just where I was going_

_I am blessed because this day_

_You came show me the way_

"Greg, this is beautiful."

"I, um. I got you a card. For our anniversary." He smiled mischievously at her, and nodded toward the envelope at the end of the hallway, watching her as she humored him, making her way down the candlelit path to the card on the floor. He followed her, leaning casually against the doorframe of their bedroom, which she had fortunately not even noticed yet, as she bent to pluck the envelope from where he had placed it. Sliding the card out of the envelope, she stifled a laugh at the two grotesquely old people on the front, glancing at him before opening to the inside, where in his chicken scratch, he had written a single sentence in Norwegian, with 'ask me what it means' written in parenthesis.

"What does it say, Gregory?" She had let a smile curve around the corner of her lip, and turned to him, unable to see what he had done to the bedroom, because of his slim frame blocking the doorway. He smiled at her, and casually translated.

"It says 'Home is just another word for you.'"

_Till now I was like a grain of sand_

_Lost on a lonely beach_

_Yes till now I could never understand_

_That this was within my reach_

Greg stepped back, and Sara peered for the first time, into their bedroom. She came to stand beside him, and placed a delicate hand on his arm, momentarily forgetting how to speak, as her eyes took in the sight before her, and Greg laughed softly, next to her.

"Greg." The bedroom, which had always been somewhat plain, with the exception of a few photos and a stray copy of JFS, had been neatly picked up. Greg had drawn the blackout curtains, so that they wouldn't be interrupted by the rising Nevada sun on the other side. She glanced around at close to fifty thick column candles, like the ones out in the hallway, placed in clusters of two or three around the bedroom, on shelves, on the floor, on the window sills, on the dresser, on the armoire, casting the room in a similar soft yellow light. He had placed whole daisies haphazardly around the room, one or two at the base of most clusters of candles. He had made the bed, too, and laid a small bouquet of daisies tied with a single thin ribbon in the center, against the pillows.

"I'm not overtly suggesting any particular activity, but, Number Ten is special. We're in the double digits, now." He smiled softly at his wife as she turned, and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Nora won't be back until tomorrow."

_I who cried to the moon see only sunshine_

_Because darling you're mine_

_I am blessed with wealth untold_

_a love worth more than gold _

With that, Sara kissed him again, tugging gently at the hem of his tee shirt, pulling it over his head. He cradled her cheek in one hand, flicking the buttons down the front of her shirt open with the other, asking permission with his tongue. Greg toppled her over onto the bed moments later, stripping the last of their clothing away as he climbed on top of her, coupling sliding into her with a hungry kiss, causing her to moan into him. He chuckled against her kiss as she flipped him over, eager to wrestle her for the top. In a few minutes. One only celebrates one's tenth wedding anniversary once, and Greg and Sara celebrated all morning.

…………

A/N: This one's for subobscura… Nina Simone _definitely_ set the stage. :grins madly: The song is Nina Simone's 'I am Blessed,' which brings me to tears every time I hear it. Definitely download it or something… it's simply beautiful. (I banged out a handful of duckies this weekend… but midterms are fast approaching… so this is probably it for a few weeks. Thanks for reading.. I hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it.)


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